Charlie's Immature, Who Knew?
by Myriad Nice
Summary: For DPS Freestyle Swim. Ginny and Charlie are step-siblings that don't get along from the moment they meet. Will a summer filled with pranks and one-upping each other come to a dramatic climax and uncomfortable end? Only one way to find out! Rated for strong language and general awfulness (of characters, not writing).


**(A/N: Sorry to start it off this way but I just wanted to say how excited I am to have you read this! I am honestly so proud of this work and I'm grateful you took the time to read it :D If you get through it all please feel free to leave a review. Enjoy!)**

* * *

Ginny came home from lacrosse practice exhausted and dying from the heat. The summer conditioning Coach Haskett had them running was unbearable and surely kicking her ass. She clomped up the stairs, dragging her grass-stained equipment with her. She stored it, much like her other sweaty clothes, in the very back of her closet until she had the stomach to get her father to drag it out a couple hours later.

She came into her room and was startled at the boy that was lounging on her pink bedspread. Ginny jumped, causing the equipment to clatter to the ground. She stared at the boy, no larger than her 5'9" figure and certainly no more muscular. He had light brown hair and an obnoxious smirk underneath his crooked nose.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" Ginny demanded, quickly picking up her defenses.

The boy merely laughed. "Haven't you heard? I'm your new step-brother."

Her eyes narrowed. Already Ginny hated him

"That doesn't explain why you're in _my_ bed."

The boy sat up, lifting his head from her decorated pillows and crossing his legs in an Indian position. Ginny glared at the way his shoes left little marks of dirt. He gave her another dastardly smile. "Haven't you also heard? Out of the goodness of your heart, you've decided to change rooms with me.

"What are you talking about? I haven't met you yet, why would I give you my room?" Ginny snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, the old guest room that they're trying to put me in is way too small for my stuff and Chet's smells like toe fungus so I figured the best fit for me would be your room. Plus, while you've been at your fancy lacrosse camp or whatever for the past two weeks, I've been making myself comfy." He picked a hair off his shirt, inspecting it for a moment before turning to face her again. "Oh, and my mother already ordered paint and a new bedsheet so I wouldn't try and argue with them."

Ginny looked at him like he was stupid. "What makes you think they'd believe you? We've never actually met until today and the only time they tried to introduce us at the wedding you were off in the bathroom throwing up or something."

"I was actually- you know what, it's not important," the guy waved off. "They've already put my plans into motion so you may want to start picking out a new color scheme for your room."

Ginny scoffed. She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy that claimed to be her brother. He was a stranger living in her house and apparently in her room. Above all, he was obnoxious.

"Do you have a name or should I just refer to you as asshole for the duration of our parents' marriage?" Ginny grilled, sinking her weight into her right hip. She looked at him expectantly.

He let out a low whistle before letting out a small laugh. "I'm Charlie. I'm assuming by the writing above your mirror that your name is Virginia?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I go by Ginny."

"All right, Ginny. I look forward to living with you."

It was a dismissal and she knew it. She had half a mind to take her lacrosse stick and bash in his obnoxious, smarmy smile with it. Instead, she held her breath and cleared the room, dragging her stuff down the hall and to the old guest bedroom.

– x –

After an extremely sweaty day at lacrosse, Ginny had taken great care to get her laundry done as soon as possible. She scooped the whites out of the bin and threw in her official Ridgeway lacrosse practice jersey. They were a new addition this season and the coach was very particular about how he wanted to have his players look. Which, is why Ginny released the loudest scream when saw the pink-red stains while moving it to the dryer.

She took a death grip on the jersey as she marched upstairs, determination thundering in every step. She first knocked on Chet's door. He came to the door right away, fearful that something wrong had happened. When he saw Ginny's irate expression and stained jersey his countenance relaxed and his shoulders sagged.

"Did you do this?" she asked, holding the jersey up to his eye level. "Did you put something red in the laundry hamper?"

"Since when do I put my laundry anywhere besides my floor?"

He had a point.

Ginny stalked away from his room, muttering some lame response under her breath. Then she remembered: she had another brother. A brother that had no clue how anything worked in the household and would probably mess something up like that to fuck with someone else, namely her. With a fire in her step, she bounded across the hallway and banged on the door with exuberance.

She waited, energy abound as Charlie took his time getting off his computer then off his bed and across the room to open the door. He swung it open languidly, staring at her with a mild interest.

"Can I help you-"

"You did this to the laundry, didn't you?" Ginny asked, thrusting the jersey into his face.

"What are you talking about?" He batted the jersey away, slightly irritated.

"Did you put anything in the hamper today?"

"Yeah, I had a pile of clothes that I brought down this morning. What's your point?"

"There was a red pair of boxer shorts that got put in the whites. Chet doesn't do laundry so it has to be you," Ginny accused.

"Maybe it's your father's." Charlie smirked, leaning against the doorway.

"My dad doesn't wear a small." Ginny smirked back, folding her arms over her chest.

"I have a narrow waist, sue me." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's not my fault you didn't look through the laundry before starting your load – I thought women were supposed to be good at housework or something."

He turned to his room, a smile nearly splitting his face down the middle as he closed the door behind him. Ginny remained at in the hallway, paralyzed by anger as she decided whether or not she was going to dignify his sexist comment with a response. She let out a short, frustrated shout before stomping back down the stairs to see if she could bleach away her problems.

– x –

She retaliated the next day by placing her sweaty socks underneath his mattress.

– x –

The next incident with Charlie happened less than a week later. He had already started repainting her room, covering the pastel color with a darker version of mahogany. It was supposed to look regal and powerful, but Ginny thought it looked stupid with the white bedframe and matching dresser set. Plus, with her strict lacrosse schedule she only had time to move out half of her stuff.

She came home exhausted and tired once again. She slumped up the stairway, dragging her practice gear behind her. Ginny passed by the trash bags in the hall without a thought until she spotted a box peeking out of one. The blue was familiar and as she inspected further, she saw that it was her trinket box. Outraged, she yanked it from the black bag and gasped when she saw that it was entirely full of stuff that was in her drawers. She dropped to the floor, placing the box to the side as she shuffled around the contents. It was true: these were all Ginny's things.

She stood up, a fire in her eyes as she stomped to the doorway down the hall. Ginny peered in, looking to see if Charlie was there. He was in fact sitting at her desk, leafing through the contents of what was undoubtedly her diary. She stormed into the room, heading straight towards him. Hurricanes never moved so fast or seemed so dangerous.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ginny screeched, clobbering to get the book in her hands. Charlie looked at her with wide eyes and then snatched the book to his chest before getting up and moving out of her way. They began to dance around the room – Charlie leaping from place to place while Ginny darted after him, gaining little by little.

"You go into my room," Ginny screamed, "and steal my stuff. You throw it out like it's garbage IN garbage bags." Her pitch hit an all-time high as she began shrieking. "And _now_ you're going through my DIARY! I have punched people for less!"

"I know," Charlie called behind him, "you punched Peter Gibbons for saying you have thunder thighs."

Ginny let out a pure scream before throwing herself at Charlie's figure, barging into him just as he was about to turn so her head went straight into his gut, and she forced him onto the ground. It was probable she outweighed him, but with the amount of force that accumulated from momentum alone she was able to knock the wind right out of him. Charlie lay on his back, gasping for air that wouldn't enter his lungs. Ginny took the chance to straddle his middle and punch him square in the face. Charlie gasped louder, unable to find air. Ginny punched once, twice more before getting off of him. He looked broken on the ground as she stood, towering over him.

He let in a deep breath, almost crying by the time the air had fully entered his lungs. Ginny took the opportunity to stomp on his stomach with all her body weight before reaching down to grab the diary. She watched him writhe on the floor for a second before turning away, nose in the air.

"Don't you read through my diary again or I may draw blood next time."

– x –

"Is your sister always such a bitch?" Charlie asked, his swollen eyes glued to the television. He and Chet were playing Halo while their parents were at work, one of the few things they could actually bond over.

"Depends. What did you do?" Chet retorted, unsurprised.

"Nothing. Just made her switch rooms… May have gone through her stuff," Charlie muttered as an explosion sounded over the television. He could barely see the flecks of yellow and orange and most of the figures on the screen were a blur, but he would take it over having his eyes swollen shut any day.

"Sounds like she'll get over it. She can be SO overdramatic sometimes." Chet rolled his eyes. He piped up, recounting, "This one time I was throwing this party – total party of the year, you would have went nuts – and she got pissed at me because some couple went into her room. They spilled some alcohol on the floor, but she was mostly pissed because they fucked on her bed. Like, it's not hard to wash your sheets. Just get over it."

"Hopefully she didn't personally hunt them down," Charlie said miserably.

"No, she was at her best friend's house. She would have totally shit herself if she was there." Chet laughed.

Charlie's disposition brightened considerably. "Hey, I have an idea… Next time she does something shitty we can get back at her by throwing some keg rager. My mom would totally get your dad out for the night and probably even buy the alcohol. All you would have to do is get people to show up."

"I like where your head is at, man," Chet praised, rattling off his gun. "I'll use any excuse to party and if it pisses off Ginny… Well, that's just a bonus."

The two smiled to themselves, too wrapped up in the game. The afternoon continued like that, making jokes about school or people (mainly Ginny) until Charlie's eyes couldn't take the glare of the television any longer.

He put down the controller and rubbed his eyes, pain shooting through the sore muscles. They strained to remain open and Charlie knew he had to go take a nap or something. He needed a good nap by the way this week was going.

– x –

Ginny was up to her knees in stuff that she had to do by the time the weekend rolled around. Due to her busy athletic schedule she hadn't been able to keep up with the demands that her new step-brother presented. He had finished redecorating his room by the time his eyes turned back to normal, even painting the furniture some dark brown color. The mirror and dresser she had spent years staring at and using were no longer recognizable. The dresser in her new room was no better.

She could see how Charlie would have a problem with the setup of the guest bedroom. The drawers were shallower because arguably guests would not need as much clothing space. This plus the down-sized closet did not help her current situation of having two trash bags full of clothing lying around. In her head, she cursed her father for finding someone else to marry that had such an obnoxious brat as a child. She also cursed herself for not standing up for herself when she still had the chance to do so because now she was forced to come home every day to an unfamiliar bedroom that was once home.

Ginny picked up a bag of clothing, carrying it over to her closet. She jammed as many clothes as she could from the back to the front, filling up the space with sweaters and dresses among some of her finer pieces of clothing. She ended up filling the closet with most of the bag, but she knew the dresser wouldn't sustain the amount that she had in her other one. So she began to fill up the top shelves, flinging article after article, caring less as each thing flew up. Ginny looked up at the shelves resentfully, huffing from the jumping she had to do towards the end. She was halfway done.

She began placing the remainder of her clothes in her drawers, placing all her skirts neatly in one drawer and her slacks in another. She kept her underwear in one drawer, although she debated whether or not to hide them in case Charlie went sneaking around when she was away. He seemed the type. Ginny ignored the protective thoughts in her head because she really just needed to get this move over with. Which was kind of funny because she shouldn't have even had to move in the first place. She was almost done.

As she was unloading the last handfuls of clothing Chet popped his head in her new doorway. She wanted to throw something at him, but generally he could be pretty nice so she decided to ignore him in favor of her work. Ginny made minimal acknowledgements as he began talking, only perking up when she heard the word "party."

"What?" Ginny asked, breaking eye contact from her dresser.

"I said, we're throwing a party this weekend so that Charlie can meet some of the kids from school. I mean, he's only here for the summer before he goes off to college, but it would be good for him to meet some people," Chet supplied, remaining in the doorway.

"But I'm supposed to have my sleepover with Chris this weekend!" Ginny cried. He was totally being unfair. She had been planning this for more than a week.

"Well, I already called my friends, but Chris is more than welcome to party with us – she's freaking hot!"

"Get out of my room," Ginny deadpanned, placing the last sock in her drawer. She was done.

– x –

Saturday night was absolutely wild. At least half of the graduating class and a majority of the upperclassmen were in attendance at Chet's introductory party. Party rock was blasting through the speakers and alcohol was flowing freely, which was sure to get the cops called on them at some point; it wouldn't be the first time that the authorities had shown up at the Danbury's front porch.

Ginny tried to ignore the pounding music reverberating the floorboards even though they were making manicures super hard. She looked at Chris apologetically, silently hoping that she was still having a good time.

"All right, now you do me," Chris said eagerly, displaying her fingers. "I want the light pink color."

Ginny smiled. "Okay, okay. Just give my fingers a moment to dry."

Downstairs, Charlie and Chet were throwing back beers. They laughed and clinked glasses as they traded stories of their previous flings. Chet recounted the time that he slept with the most popular girl at school during prom and then went back to his date and slept with her after the dance. His friends hooped and hollered, slapping him on the back. Chet was beaming.

Charlie leaned into him. "Do you want to fuck with Ginny?"

"What? Dude, no! She's my sister," Chet exclaimed, looking at Charlie like he had three heads.

"Not like that, Jesus. Do you want to mess with her head?" Charlie explained, blaming alcohol for Chet's reaction.

"Oh, sure! Yeah, that'd be great." Chet nodded his head along, only slightly distracted by all the stimulants around him.

"Cool. I want you to gather up all the drunk people hooking up by the stairs. I'll meet you there in like, five minutes," Charlie said before patting Chet's shoulder. He split after that, walking around the house. He interrupted people's hot and heavy make-out sessions, saying that there were free rooms upstairs. They followed him without hesitation, anxious to get to that next step. Once he had a significant amount of people, he brought them over to the stairs.

"Chet? Why did you only get one couple?" Charlie asked, a little disappointed by the lackluster couple Chet had beside him.

"They were the only people mackin' by the stairs, bro." Chet shrugged.

Charlie held back his groan. "Whatever. Get in line because is going to be good."

He then called for the people to follow him. The small group ascended the stairs like a hoard of elephants, clomping over the carpeted floorboards. Charlie led them down the hallway and waited outside of the door for a second, hand poised on the handle. He didn't hear any rustling behind the door, but he figured they would be in there. So he pushed open the door.

"All right, come on in," Charlie called as he pushed open the door, eyes on the crowd. The first couple people followed his instructions, stepping into the room. A satisfied smile filled his face when he heard the unexpected shrieks of two girls, but was not prepared for the scene that was waiting for him because there was his step-sister wearing only her bra beside her likewise shirtless friend.

"Holy mother of dykes," Charlie muttered.

Ginny's eyes were wide as she took in the people flooding her room, but when she saw who was at the root of it all her eyes hardened instantaneously. "You're fucking dead, Dalton."

She leapt from the bed (Charlie noting that she had her skirt on) before charging the door. Ginny had to push through the throng of people streaming into her room, using her athleticism to dodge and push past as many people as possible. When she got halfway to him, Charlie realized what was happening and booked it.

"Charlie! You get your ass back here so I can plant it in the ground!" Her voice resonated against the walls, effectively overlapping the pounding music. Making his heart beat faster as he sprinted throughout the house. He tried to think of places to hide, but it just seemed as though wherever he went her voice was just getting closer. Profanities were being shot every which way around him and it was all he could do to escape it.

He charged out the back door, quickly followed by Ginny. There were hollers made as Ginny shot outside, clearly towards her lack of attire. She was completely and utterly pissed and sprinting her hardest, allowing her to gain enough on him that she could tackle him to the ground. She jumped on his back, causing the both of them to collide heavily into the ground. They both laid there for a few seconds, shocked and aching already. Ginny was the first to pop up and pounced on her stepbrother. She punched him in the face, making sure to hit the same places as before. She hit him in the chest and made sure to get a good smack in his ribs.

He cried out at the roughest punches, but had the dignity to try and fight with people around. So he blocked one of the punches aimed towards his sternum and socked her once in the face. She immediately fell back, body and legs spilling everywhere.

The two bounced up from the ground, Charlie already bleeding heavily from his face. They stared each other down and Charlie dropped low. Ginny mimicked his stance, figuring they would go around in circles once or twice, but Charlie had other ideas. Before she could side step him, Charlie was sprinting towards her, yelling something illegibly at the top of his lungs. He made contact with her, hitting her square in the chest as he ran with her. Ginny was helpless as she molded into his body, the momentum bringing the two of them together as he ran into their underground pool.

Charlie thrashed underwater, partially due to the fact that his stepsister yanked on his hair and partially due to the fact that chlorine was attacking his open wounds. Ginny broke surface before him, but made sure to stay around to immediately splash water in his face when he popped back up.

"Ahh! What the fuck?" Charlie screamed, trying to wipe away the water.

"You're an asshole!" Ginny screamed back, making a motion to pull out her own hair. "You're ruining my life and you don't even seem to care. God, I fucking hate you. I hate you, okay? And goddmanit, my nipples are going to be hard when I leave.

"I just can't believe how selfish you are. You took my room, you messed up all my shit, and now you fucking outed me. I can't… I can't believe that someone as awful as you has to be in my life now. So, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, Charlie Dalton."

She swam to the edge and got out, leaving Charlie to only gaze after her a moment.

"Well… Yeah! Fuck you, too," Charlie called after even though he knew it was futile. He watched her walk inside, the crowd around them parting like she was Moses.

Charlie watched as the crowd dispersed shortly afterward, finding zero interest in his state. So he found his way to the edge as well, pushing himself up and out of the water. He shook out his hair and mumbled under his breath to no one in particular, "Bitch."

How did they let it get this bad?

– x –

Ginny had been ice cold to him, making it known that she was less than pleased without using a single word. If she was in a better mood Charlie would have shamelessly used her sexuality against her, making small references in private or even at the dinner table; it would be the bargaining chip of the century. Alas, Charlie figured that if he mentioned anything about it she would murder him in the middle of the night, which she was probably going to do anyways. In order to avoid his inevitably soon death, he avoided her at all costs.

Which was going to be harder with their parents' big announcement.

"We're going on vacation!"

– x –

By the weekend their family-sized vehicle was packed to the brim. Fitting five people's worth of luggage was a feat when someone packed as heavily as their new mother did. Luckily, Chet eased the difficultly by packing four outfits for their two week long vacation.

"Why do we have to go on vacation?" Chet whined as his father closed the trunk with finality. "Why can't I just stay here and play football with the guys?"

"Chet, the last time you were home alone two separate police squads came and the firemen made an appearance at some point. I'm positive you've nixed your home alone privileges." His reminder caused Chet to pout, but he continued. "And, your new mother wanted us to do a bit of bonding before you and Charlie go off to college."

"But Charlie and I get along just fine," Chet whined. "We could totally stay here and you could take Ginny and have a nice family vacation. Problem solved!"

"Problem not solved, Chet. Get in the car."

Chet groaned, throwing his head back, but got in the car nonetheless. He squeezed himself in between Charlie and Ginny, receiving at least one glare. They were going to be cramped for the next few hundred miles and no one was looking forward to it.

"Why couldn't we just fly again?" Chet whined.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic," Ginny called up before elbowing her brother in the side.

"Plane tickets are expensive," their father replied easily.

"There's nothing a little road trip mix won't fix!" their stepmother laughed, punching in a CD. The kids groaned in the backseat. A lot of them had their own music devices, and Chet and Ginny had no idea what kind of music taste their stepmother had.

An up-beat song from the nineteen-sixties started playing, filling up the car with more glee than had been felt all week. The teens felt weird sulking in such happy music and the new Mrs. Danbury let them know exactly how she felt.

"Charlie, I know this is one of your favorite songs. So I'm going to start this over and you better sing along!" She called to the back before reaching over to go to the begging of the track. It crackled over the speakers once again and this time Charlie joined in.

"You broke my heart," he mouthed, "because I couldn't dance. You didn't even want me around, but now I'm back to let _you_ know I can really shake 'em down."

The music picked up and Charlie began shimmying in his seat. Chet turned fully to watch, a laugh barely contained behind his curled lip. He began outright laughing when Charlie and his mom full force started to sing along, switching off between lead and back-up vocals.

"Do you love me now.. that I.. can dance?" The two jammed out. "Watch me work now!"

Their chair dancing continued, this time picking up in intensity. By the time the song was over, Chet was in hysterics and Ginny had a slight smile on her face. They all shared a brief moment of peace before the next song played.

This song was well known by all and was expressed by the eager look of the children. It was a product of their parent's age, but the timeless classic produced by ABBA would be known throughout the generations.

Charlie and his mother sang the opening verse, setting the scene with their lower tones. As they progressed through it, the song became more vibrant and it caused Ginny and even Chet to join in by the time the chorus came around.

"Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!" they chorused, slightly off key. "Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine! You can dance, you can jive. Having the time of your life. Oh, see that girl? Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen!"

– x –

Four hours later and the family had arrived at the beach house they were renting just off the coast of Maine. They had gotten all of their stuff out of the trunk and were deciding on where people would sleep, namely the teenagers.

"I say that we put Ginny on the couch," Charlie announced. Chet called in agreement.

"But Chet and I are actually related," Ginny argued. "It would make more sense that we would share the room – we always do."

"No, usually you get the room and I sleep on the couch," Chet corrected.

"I like that arrangement. We should keep it." Ginny gave him a look.

"Ginny, honey, you're being unreasonable. Maybe you should let the boys have the bedroom this time – you can have it next time," her stepmother said. She placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders, her painted nails beginning to dig into the skin.

"Fine." Ginny squirmed out from under her touch. "If everyone is dead set against my happiness, I'll sleep on the couch!"

She stomped across the room and threw her bags on the floor and then herself on the couch. There was nothing else to do but pout and pretend that she was lifeless, if only to make herself forget the large amounts of stress that was sure to accompany this vacation.

– x –

For the most part, Charlie and Ginny did a good job of not getting in close contact with each other. Charlie spent most of his day splashing in the water with Chet, alternating between boogie boarding and seeing who could swim out the farthest. Whereas Ginny spent a majority of her day indoors reading or watching television; she wasn't in an "outdoors" mood.

Her family had brought up the idea of s'mores when the sun was just lowering towards the horizon. It left a soft orange glow upon the water's surface and brought to life the warm colors of the sand. It was beautiful outside and a beautiful moment to share with her family – spread around the fire pit, laughing and chatting while shoving bits of melted marshmallow and chocolate in their mouths. But something didn't sit well in Ginny's stomach as she saw her family sit down. She didn't think she belonged.

So she made the excuse that she was going to run for lacrosse; that she may as well get some exercise in so she wouldn't be destroyed when she got back. She threw on her dry-fit tank top and running pants before pulling her hair into a bushy and impromptu ponytail. She went to the front door, tying up her laces before heading out the door.

Her music blared and filled every hole that seemed to be gaping with insecurity. As she ran, she sweat out the toxic energy of her family. With every drip left a harsh word. Or a glance that made her suspicious of their generosity. As her feet beat against the pavement, she was beating down the negative energy that had been consuming her life. She ran and she ran until she reached the end of the road. Three miles. She turned to go back.

By the time she had reached home she was completely soaked from head to toe. The orange sky had slowly shifted and was pulled to a dull black, illuminated by the busy corner of the street. Ginny skipped going in the front door and walked all the way around to the back. She stared at the pitch black ocean momentarily, sensing the low crashing waves as inviting. She wanted to jump in and have the slow-moving water engulf her and swallow her whole. She wanted to feel like she was being pulled out to sea – away from here.

Instead, she sat. She sat in the cool sand and took off her shoes, smooshing her toes under the surface. Ginny stayed like that for a while, feeling sticky from the wind cooling her sweat and unnerved by the calm that surrounded herself. She finally felt like she could unwind among the blackened backdrop and somnolent ocean. Finally.

– x –

This carried on for the next couple days; Ginny would avoid family time, go for an evening run, and then sit in the sand until it grew too cold to be bearable any longer. Her routine had been left alone until she felt a body drop next to her on the third night. She looked over to see that her nightmares were coming true because Charlie Dalton was once again invading her space.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked, barely sparing a glance at him.

He patted the sand beside him, ignoring her question. He had on a red t-shirt and swimming trunks, still unchanged from the swim he had earlier.

"What do you do when you leave?" he asked.

"I _run_ ," Ginny answered as it was a no-brainer.

"You can't tell me that you run the whole hour that you're gone."

"Unlike you, I actually have an athletic bone in my body," Ginny retorted, turning to glare.

"I used to play some soccer in high school," Charlie commented with little conviction. "That's got to count for something."

"Varsity?" Ginny challenged.

"Rec," he answered.

A silence stirred between them and Ginny cursed whatever was above her for allowing them to put Charlie in her perfect evening. Because here he was talking and breathing, invading her precious alone time with his dumb mouth.

"Ginny?" Charlie asked openly, no strength or demands in his voice.

"Yeah?" Her voice was tired-sounding. Barely allowing an echo to follow.

"I'm really sorry," he admitted.

"For what?" she pushed, eyes on the water.

Charlie looked at her, slightly ashamed for what he was going to say. "For everything. For the diary, for the party, for ruining your summer."

"And…?"

"And…" Charlie took a breath. "I'm sorry that I was such an ass. I didn't need to pick a fight, but it seemed like you would fight back. It intrigued me and it was entertaining at the start." He couched slightly. "But it was taken way too far and I'm sorry for that."

A silence lingered between the two as Charlie looked towards her. Hope and a longing for forgiveness was etched pretty heavily into his features, shining through his dark eyes. Ginny remained stoic though, not giving him any indication of what she thought of his apology. It was driving him a little mad and honestly made him regret that he ever tried to reconcile for a moment.

"You were an ass," Ginny said finally, cracking a smile. She turned towards Charlie, watching him shake his head before letting out a laugh. He kept laughing, giddy from the way her smile had lit up the evening. She laughed along for a bit, but when his laughter didn't slow, she narrowed her eyes.

"You're still an ass!" She called, making her way over to shove him into the sand.

He laughed harder as sand flew into his hair and Ginny's fist lightly collided with his stomach. She play-punched for a bit longer, sitting back on her legs when she realized he wasn't going to stop laughing at her.

"You know I still hate you, right?" Ginny said, almost in surrender.

Charlie stopped laughing long enough to look at her with a wild smile. "No you don't."

"Shut up." Ginny blushed, moving to get up.

Charlie followed her off the ground. They looked at each for a moment, just staring in idle contentment. For a second she thought about giving him a hug, but quickly pushed the thought out of her mind when she saw the dastardly glint flash in his eyes.

"Oh no... Charlie," she warned, backing up, "don't you dare touch me. Charlie–!"

And just like that they were darting across the backyard, sand flying every which way as she scampered to escape her stepbrother. They ran around like eight-year-olds, squealing and screaming when they got too close to each other. In the end, Charlie caught up to her and pulled her into a tight squeeze.

"Water time," Charlie warned, dragging Ginny's protesting body to the ocean. She squealed and squirmed, but to no avail. He still managed to get her into the water deep enough that when he let go, she went sputtering into the salty pool.

She sprung up like a cat, eyes wide and deadly. "You're such an ass!" she yelled before dragging him under water with her. He came up shortly after, gulping for air.

The two splashed water at each other, attempting to maneuver the fastest out of the way. Their laughter echoed across the never ending ocean and their profanities were even louder. They sprinted after each other, a newfound determination in their steps.

Maybe things didn't have to change entirely; just enough to get them through the summer.

– x –


End file.
